


• honeycomb •

by redstringraven (sirimiri)



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Grief/Mourning, Healing, Just gals being pals, Post-Canon, Slice of Life, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:01:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26218291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sirimiri/pseuds/redstringraven
Summary: "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest."There's a shooting in the school. An expelled student had died, and Max had been in the bathroom when it happened. They'd been friends, Kate learns. Suddenly, her own problems, pain, fears, loneliness... they seem so insignificant. She'd brought it on herself, after all. Max hadn't asked to lose a friend.Kate hugs Alice close to her chest as she crosses the dorm hallway, pausing in front of Max's door. She's tired. Her chest aches, sore from days of stifled sobs. But she raises a hand and quietly raps her knuckles beside the little whiteboard. Max isn't a person of faith; she won't find rest with Him. And that's okay. Maybe she can find it with someone else.
Relationships: Maxine "Max" Caulfield/Kate Marsh
Comments: 29
Kudos: 61





	1. polarized

**Author's Note:**

> it's been years since i played this game but i've been getting shot through the heart with marshfield feels again so HERE I AM.
> 
> as a queer christian, myself, i have a massive soft spot for this ship and really wish the game had given us the option to Go There™... maybe someday. until then, though? fanfiction. this will be told primarily from kate's perspective with small glimpses from max's. hobbies include aggressively listening to _daughter_ while writing. this fic will likely be slow to update (as all my fics are at the moment), and i don't really have an outline. 
> 
> we're just here to find healing, y'all. and be warm, soft, and gay along the way.
> 
> **warnings for this fic include:** occasional suicide ideation, discussions of death and loss, discussions and experiences of depression and anxiety, and briefly implied sexual assault (as it was suspected in-game but didn't happen).

* * *

It happened so fast.

The books she’d read would tell her these kinds of things would happen in slow motion. That she’d remember every detail, every sensation, so vividly, so clearly, that she’d remember it as though it were happening on a loop. But that’s not what she experienced at all.

Kate had moved through the day in a fog, finding her appetite gone, and any desire to pick up her violin continued to wither. Somehow she’d gotten dressed and, even more mysteriously, made it to her classes.

The end of the day drew near. Just one more class, and she could retreat to her room. Unbothered. Unmocked. At least, not to her face.

Kate stared at her notebook, Jefferson’s lecture only just making sense in her ears. The rope she’d drawn dangled, limp, from a carefully sketched tree. Empty… waiting. She could picture the small tree just outside the dorms. There was even a bench in front of it.

It would be easy. To step off that bench and into silence. She’d be gone by morning. And all this pain, this fear, this… unknown dirtiness would be gone.

She came out of the thought just as soon as she’d slipped into it.

Kate’s fingers shook, and she placed the pencil beside her notebook. She rotated her chair enough to face the center of the classroom, where Mr. Jefferson milled about. His lecture would draw to a close soon. The clock’s hands were nearly in line, and she felt the smallest hint of relief. She would try to listen to the remaining lesson, but the truth was, she’d been trying to tune Mr. Jefferson’s voice out for most of the week. Something about it had begun to unsettle her. She couldn’t explain it, couldn’t place why. It felt... wrong.

Class ended, and she gathered her things in a bit of a rush, bee-lining out the door and down the halls before they’d have the chance to fill. Crossing campus, ducking into the dorms, disappearing into her room with a gentle lock _click_. She hopes to feel a bit of relief as she leans her back into the door and rests her head against the wood.

Nothing.

Because the letters from home are still scattered around her room. The texts are still on her phone. The emails, still sitting in her inbox. She hasn’t escaped; she’s just hiding.

Kate rolls her lips, presses them into a thin line. Slowly, she peels herself away from the door and shambles to her desk. Her books spill out of her arms as she slumps into the chair. Head in hands, she can’t bring herself to look at her assignments or pick up the papers that had slid to the floor. The weight, shame, sudden swell of exhaustion now that she can’t be seen… it’s so much.

A knock at her door startles her. She sits up, realizing that the afternoon sun had dimmed on the other side of her blinds. How long had she been sitting here?

More knocking. A voice rises from the other side of the door. “--Kate? Kate, are you in there?!”

It’s Dana. She sounds worried… scared?

“Kate, if you’re in there, please say something!”

 _This is a trick,_ a small voice whispers to her. Kate’s throat tightens. She doesn’t want to get up and walk to the door, but she does. With a much louder _click_ of the lock, she pulls the door open. “...yes?”

Her inaudible word is barely spoken when Dana pushes through the door to throw her arms around her shoulders. Kate lets out a startled sound, arms raised in confusion.

“Oh, thank god!” Dana exclaims. She secures her hug, squeezing Kate’s shoulders. “You’re okay!”

Kate blinks. She stands still, remaining quiet as Dana sniffs and continues to cling to her. Nearly half a minute passes before the taller girl pulls away, though her palms remain on Kate’s shoulders. “I was so scared.”

“...why?” Kate asks, feeling her features sink. _Why would anyone care?_ She watches Dana’s expression drop--almost crumble. There’s a cold sense of realization to it, and Kate feels dread creep through her ribs.

“Oh my god, you don’t know,” Dana mutters. “Have you been in your room this whole time?”

Kate nods. “Since after classes.” She pauses, voice catching when Dana looks away from her. “...Dana, what happened?”

“...Nathan. He shot someone.”

The words don’t sound real at first. She wonders if she imagined them.

“...what?”

Dana looks to her, something in her gaze harder. Angry. “Nathan shot someone who used to go here in the girl’s bathroom. She died. ...I-I was worried that there may have been others before he got caught, and when I couldn’t find you, I…”

A cold shiver runs down Kate’s spine like a stream of ice water. Nathan. _Shot_ someone. Someone was _dead_.

“Did…” Kate pauses, swallowing. “Did anyone else…? Get hurt?”

“No,” Dana says, quietly. She pulls her hands back to her, hugging her arms against her chest. “But. But Max was in the bathroom when it happened. She seemed really out of it. I can’t blame her. ...I think she knew her. --The girl, who…”

_Max…_

... she’d been there. And worse, she might have known the girl who’d died. Kate’s eyes drift to the door across the hall, and she presses a hand over her mouth. “Where is she now?”

“I don’t know,” Dana says. “She might still be at the police station since she was… a witness and all.”

“Of course.” Kate lowers her hand, biting her lip. _Oh, Max._ Her chest aches.

Dana reaches out and retakes one of her shoulders, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I’m really glad you’re alright, Kate.”

“...thanks,” is all she can manage. It feels stupid and half-hearted. Dana smiles, small and brief, before she bows her head and walks down the corridor to her own room.

Kate stands in the threshold of her room, watching Dana leave. Slowly, her gaze drifts to the door across from hers. She stares at it. The little whiteboard covered in cheerful doodles.

She crosses the hall and plucks the marker from its clip. Max probably won’t notice at first. Her mind will be clouded and heavy, her eyes will be tired. But at the very least, when she does see it… maybe it will bring her comfort. For now.

Kate sighs, pushing the marker back into place. She eyes the board one last time before hugging her arms and quickly shuffling back to her room. Behind, she leaves a little doodle of a rabbit and a simple message.

_Here for you._


	2. heavy eyed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> these first few chapters will likely be on the shorter side, but get longer as the story progresses. \e-e/ enjoy!

* * *

She didn’t sleep.

Or, maybe she did. It’d gotten hard to tell.

As she lay in the dark, dreams would come and go without disruption, making it difficult to tell reality from her own mind. Kate would dream of shambling down the school halls hearing whispers with her name hissed or snickered. No one was even trying to hide it anymore. No lips behind palms or fleeting glances. They all just stared; their grins toothy and cold. They'd follow her, cheshire cats of her own making. She’d reach class only to wake up in her bed again. This jarring cycle only made her more tired than she’d been, and when Kate finally blinked her eyes open to see morning sun leaking through her blinds, she wondered if it’d be worth getting out of bed. Being awake wouldn’t be any different, would it? Not really.

Her gaze drifts among piles of her discarded clothes and stray papers, and she remembers. Slowly, ghosting over her like a winter's chill.

… Nathan had been arrested …

There’d been a shooting yesterday, right after class. Max had been in the room when it happened. An old friend of hers had died.

Nathan had been arrested. Nathan had _shot_ someone, and they died.

Kate blinks. A tear slides from the corner of her eye and soaks into her pillow, warming her cheek. A numbness creeps over her; every inch of her body grows heavy, yet she can’t feel the weight. She pushes to sit up and drags her legs over the side of her bed. The glide from her bed to Alice’s cage is a blend of smooth and clumsy, her muscles following their own memories as she unlocks the side door and gingerly cradles the bunny into her arms.

The halls are quiet as she steps into them. It should be unsettling, but Kate can’t help but feel a little relief. Maybe no one would see her; maybe Victoria would stay in her room.

Kate hugs Alice close to her chest, gingerly rubbing the bunny’s head with her thumb, and crosses the hall to Max’s door. Her eyes trail to the whiteboard. Her heart sinks a little. It’s selfish to lament that her message had been overshadowed by more meaningful words and drawings intended to comfort. The tops of the letters had even been rubbed away, likely by the heel of a palm.

She should leave. Max probably hadn’t seen her message anyway. Now it’s just another, lost in the sea.

But, again, selfishness stirs in her stomach. Loneliness. _After all, misery loves company,_ a voice in her head whispers, and Kate swallows the shame. Slowly, she raises a hand and taps her knuckles on the door. The sound is so quiet (so not to scare Max, nor to stir curiosity from the other rooms) that, for a moment, she’s worried she may have to try again. But after seconds of silence, the knob clicks.

Max opens the door and peers around it. They only stand and stare at each other in a fog of silence for what feels like an eternity. Until, finally, Max speaks.

“Kate,” she says, pressing her lips together and quickly scrubbing the dried salt from her face. “--hi.”

“Good morning, Max,” Kate mutters. She winces a little at the word choice. _It’s not a ‘good’ morning._ “Um. ...I just. I wanted to say I’m sorry. Dana… told me what happened.”

“Oh. Yeah.” Max shifts her weight, and for a moment, Kate worries she’s about to shut the door. But, instead, she leans around it and gestures to the whiteboard. “I-I saw your note. ...thank you, Kate. I really needed that.”

There’s a flutter in her chest, and Kate straightens, allowing herself this brief moment of relief. Max had seen it.

“Do… do you need anything?” Kate asks, adjusting her arms around Alice. “Can I help?”

Such a stupid, useless question.

Max hugs her arms to her chest. She’s avoiding eye contact, and Kate understands. Alice sits up, pressing the top of her head under Kate’s chin. She can feel the faint twitch of the bunny’s nose against her neck and her velvety ears. It’s comforting, and she gets an idea.

“Would you like to hold Alice for a little while?” Kate asks. “I could go get some of her hay, and you could feed her.”

Max hesitates. “That. That would be really nice, Kate. Thank you.”

Kate nods, and she steps a little closer to gingerly pass Alice into Max’s arms. Once the little bunny is secure, she’s quick to shuffle back to her own room and to the box of hay she keeps in her closet. When she returns, Max has retreated back into her room and found a place on her couch, Alice contently sat on her lap.

“Here,” Kate says, moving to the couch and placing a few handfuls of hay on the cushions (in a place they’d be less likely to get stuck in the creases). Out of the corner of her eyes, she can see Alice’s little nose wiggle. Kate straightens and turns to move for the door.

“--Wait,” Max interjects, and Kate pauses, turning back to her. Max’s frown weakens. “You… you can stay, you know? If you want to. I. I know people haven’t. --You want to be alone lately.”

_Oh._

Kate’s hand rests on the doorknob. She stares out into the hall, lips pressed together, and eyes darting from one door to the next. Then, slowly, she pushes the door shut, and she returns to the couch.

Max offers a weak smile. She scratches Alice’s head around her ears and lets the bunny step off her knees to the hay. Alice begins to nibble on the strands, and Kate watches her. Careful to keep her gaze low. It dawns on her, only now, how awful she must look. It’s too late to hide all of it. But maybe she can make the circles under her eyes lesser by keeping her head down.

They sit in silence, save for the faint crunch of the hay as Alice snacks. Max sniffs every few minutes, and Kate hardly moves. She feels herself slip away as the room around her blurs to little more than colors and shapes. Until Max’s voice draws her back.

“I didn’t know rabbits ate hay.”

“Oh… yeah,” Kate says, nodding. “Carrots and lettuce actually aren’t that good for them. In the wild, they eat grass all day, so… hay.”

“That makes sense. Kind of like horses.”

“Yeah.”

“Just a lot smaller.”

“Mhm.”

“And cuter.”

Kate looks up, brows furrowed. But her expression weakens and sinks away as she takes in the exhaustion on Max’s face. The purpled, darkened patches beneath her eyes and her reddened cheeks and eyes. How swollen and broken her face is. ...how horrible she’d been to avoid eye contact. Max didn’t need more alienation right now. She didn’t need to be coddled, of course, but she shouldn’t be avoided outright, either. Kate had been doing precisely that.

“... Max,” she whispers, heart sinking. “I-I… I’m _so_ sorry.”

Max looks at her, the beginnings of a weak smile on her features, but the expression falters. Instead of words, she emits only a small, choked sound, and she covers her face with her hands.

Without a moment of hesitation, Kate scoots closer. Her leg bumps the little pile of hay, and Alice hops back onto Max’s lap. Kate wraps her arms around Max’s shoulders and rests her head against hers. She squeezes her tightly, unable to stop her own sob from escaping her lips.

She doesn’t know if she’s crying for the girl who died, for Max, or for herself, and it’s _horrible_. Her emotions have become tangled, earbud wires hastily shoved into a pocket, and she’s too tired to bother anymore.


	3. foolish, fragile spine

* * *

Kate didn’t know how long she’d been in Max’s room, but by the time she left, the hallways were half full of students. They spoke in hushed voices to each other, and a sense of dread crept down Kate’s spine. She’d tried to get to her room without being noticed, but Dana spotted her.

“Kate,” she called, voice still hushed. Kate winced, bracing for the students to look in her direction, but found herself surprised when none of them turned their heads. Dana reached her, her face ashen and strained. “...oh my god.”

“... what?” Kate murmured. She scrubbed at her face with the heel of her palm. Even if she was red in the eyes with tear-crusted cheeks, attempts to hide it wouldn’t matter much. Dana pressed a hand over her mouth, hugging her other arm around her chest. Her silence did nothing to calm the dread stirring in Kate’s gut.

Dana lowered her hand and opened her mouth. She paused, pressed the hand back into place, then dropped it a second time despite her hesitation. “Jefferson was arrested this morning.”

_What?_

“What?” Kate gasped, feeling herself straighten. “But. But Nathan was…”

“I don’t know,” Dana said. “But. Students who were already in the classroom have been talking. There’s a rumor going around that he and Nathan… --that they were doing something. Something _awful_. Nathan must have told the police last night or this morning or something.”

Kate stared. She opened her mouth but paused, realizing that the hallway had gone quiet. Dana must have noticed, too, because she turned around just as Kate began to peer around her. Two police officers had entered the dorms, a man and a woman.

“Is Kate Marsh here?” The woman asked, and Kate’s stomach dropped. _Why?_ She thought, panicked, as Taylor and Victoria immediately turned their eyes on her. The officer followed their gaze and approached, her expression neutral and tired. “Ms. Marsh, we need you to come to the station with us.”

“--Why?” Dana interjected, stepping between them. Kate held her breath, looking up at Dana’s squared shoulders. “She didn’t do anything.”

“I know,” the officer said, and her tone had grown almost… sad. “Which is why she needs to come with us.”

Kate felt sick. Somehow, this was worse than being accused of something… because it meant something had _happened_ to her. That everything she’d been so scared of, so worried about, had been real. That Nathan… may have hurt her that night. Kate’s hand closed around the collar of her t-shirt. _I’m going to throw up._

Dana and the officer stared at each other before Dana turned around and took Kate’s shoulders. She bent enough to be at eye level, and she looked Kate firmly in the eyes. “It’s going to be okay, Kate,” she whispered, pulling her into a tight hug. Kate let it happen, unable to move. “I’ll be here when you get back. It’s going to be okay.”

* * *

It wasn’t okay.

Somehow, it was… worse.

Kate had known something happened to her that night. She’d woken up outside her room, a creeping feeling in her skin, and filled with a need to scrub herself clean. The videos and pictures started spreading. The memories of Nathan offering to take her to the hospital and how that never happened. She’d assumed the worst… but she never could have guessed the truth.

There were photos. _More_. _Photos_. As though the Vortex Club hadn’t been enough. She never should have gone, _never_ should have indulged in a drink, **never** should have agreed to let Nathan take her anywhere--she’d known better. She’d _always_ known better.

… _stupid_.

Rain began to pour over the city by the time she left the station. Kate shambled toward the bus, pausing just feet from it. Her arms tightened around her chest. The last thing she wanted was to be around more people. So she turned and started down the sidewalk.

The walk back to campus should have been miserable. Between October’s trickling breeze and the rain’s chilled touch, it should have been needles on the skin. But she barely felt it. Tears mixed with rain as droplets sprinkled onto her cheeks and into her eyes, and every few steps, her shoulders heaved. The sobs came with no pattern. Her ribs felt like they were cracking.

A car’s headlights glowed against the road, and she didn’t flinch as the vehicle tore past. _You missed me,_ she thought, instead.

Kate drifted onto campus and found her way back to the dorms. As she entered the small corridor, she became vaguely aware of voices hushing--heads turning. Her eyes squeezed shut, and she forced herself forward. _Why did you walk back?_ She asked herself, all at once painfully aware of how her soaked socks squished in her shoes and the puddles she left behind. _You look stupid. You are stupid, and everyone knows it._ She quickened her pace to reach her door, finally raising her gaze. She paused.

Max sat on the floor, several feet away. She hugged her knees against her chest, her chin resting atop them, and her back pressed to the stairwell door that leads to the roof. When she saw Kate, she sat up. She didn’t speak, but Kate saw something in her eyes shift. Worry? Fear? _...knowing?_ , a voice in her head murmured.

They stared at each other for a long moment. Kate tried to smile, but the corners of her mouth only shivered and sank again. She reached out and grabbed the doorknob, shoving herself into the darkness of her room.

* * *

Kate didn’t know how long she’d been lying on her couch before a series of knocks shook her back to the present time. It’d been Dana, again.

The moment Kate had opened her door, Dana all but shoved her way inside. She immediately began digging through Kate’s dressers, muttering on about her wet clothes, getting sick, why hadn’t she changed? Kate looked down at the jeans and t-shirt, both still soaked through from her walk in the rain. _Why do you suddenly care so much?_ She wondered. She let Dana pull the t-shirt over her head and fling it aside, pushing a warm, cotton sweatshirt into her arms. _Why pity me now?_

Dana stuck around after Kate had changed and settled into her bed. Thankfully, she didn’t ask questions. She busied herself with tidying--picking up the small piles of clothes and throwing them into a hamper, collecting loose papers and stacking them on Kate’s desk, even plucking the scattered hay off the ground around Alice’s cage. Kate watched her in silence.

* * *

Chloe.

That was her name. ...Chloe Price.

News of the shooting spread through Arcadia Bay, as well as the ties to Mark Jefferson, the death of a girl named Rachel Amber, and so much more. The days passed in a gray haze.

Kate navigated the motions like clockwork. So did everyone else, it seemed. And she felt a tinge of guilt and relief… because everyone was so distracted by the deaths, Nathan’s involvement, Jefferson’s true self, that they paid her no mind. She only wondered how long it would last. When they’d seek her out again for a needed laugh.

The day after Jefferson’s arrest, Kate’s talk with the police, Max approached her.

“Hey,” she said, clearing her throat and sniffing. The exhaustion on her voice is heavy; Kate can feel it creep over her own shoulders.

“Hey.”

Max hesitated. She scratched the space between her nose and upper lip. “I just… --not to be all depressing and shit, but. If. If you wanted to come to Chloe’s… funeral.” The way she says the word. There’s something… frail, fragile about its pronunciation. And as though it’d been dropped like a glass, Kate feels a spike prickle through her skin. “Um. It. It’s on Friday. If it’s too much, though, I-I totally get it.”

“--No,” Kate says, maybe a little too quickly. “No, it’s. It’s not too much. It’s okay.”

Max’s smile is weak, but it seems sincere. Grateful, even.

They stand in the dorm hall in silence for several seconds.

“How… are you doing, Kate?” Max asks suddenly. She hugs her arms around her chest. “I, um. --I haven’t asked. I thought you might want some space after you got back, but then Dana got into your room and… --well, she didn’t leave until last night.”

“It’s okay, Max,” Kate says. She shrugs. “Um. ...I don’t feel like talking about it.”

A door opens down the hall, and Kate’s eyes snap toward the sound. It’s Taylor. She takes one look at them before her steps quicken, and she ducks into the bathroom. Kate swallows hard, her gaze dropping to the floor between her socks.

“... is… there anything I can do to help?” Max asked, her voice softer this time.

Kate pauses. Her throat tightens. _She’s looking for something to exploit,_ a tiny voice in the back of her head whispers, remembering the glance Taylor had just given her--how she and Victoria had directed the police right to her. Kate feels her shoulders rise, and the ache swells under her neck. But, just as quickly, she furrows her brows and presses her lips together. _This is Max,_ she thinks. _She’s been kind to me through all of this. She wants to help. I don’t deserve it, but she wants to help._

“I, mn,” Kate murmurs. “I… --I have a dress I could wear on Friday. But. I think it’s dirty. ...could. --Would you come down to the washroom with me? I think it’d be best if I stayed there while it cycles.”

_I don’t want to be alone… but I can’t leave it there unattended. What if someone tries to trick me?_

“Yeah, of course,” Max says. She nods, and they walk together to collect the dress from Kate’s room.

* * *

It’s Wednesday afternoon, and the washroom is, thankfully, empty. Not a lot of students targeted the middle of the week for laundry. And, Kate guessed, it wasn’t a priority task on most minds right now.

She and Max sat quietly on the floor, backs to a set of dryers as they watched the dress and water swirl before them. Neither of them spoke.

Kate wondered how much she knew. Or, at least, how much of the truth she knew between the rumors and gossip. For the briefest moment, she wonders if it’d been a good idea to ask Max to join her. But the thought is just as soon silenced, and her surroundings blur until only the twisting water and fabric before her remains.

“Kate?”

Max’s voice snaps the washroom back into clarity. Kate tilts her head against the dryer, so she looks at Max. “Yes?”

“I, um. --Thank you. For letting me hang out with Alice yesterday. She’s such a sweet bunny.”

“Yes, she is,” Kate says. She nods once, adjusting her hands around her knees. “You’re welcome. I’m glad she was able to help… even if it was only a little.”

“It helped me a lot.”

A pause. Kate started returning her gaze to the washer.

“But Kate?”

She stopped. “...hmn?”

“...I know you’ve, um. I know that before what happened on Monday that you’ve. ...that things haven’t been easy for you, and you’ve been. …--I just want you to know that you’re not alone. And that I don’t… want you to think that just because of everything, you've been forgotten…--I’ve got your back. I always will. No matter what. And it’s not just me, either. A lot of people care, I know they do.” Max paused, her gaze dropping to her hands, watching her fingers curl and unfold. “So please know that if you need anything, you can tell me. I know I don’t have a cute bunny to offer, but… maybe I could bring some tea or something.”

The feeling that sweeps through her is one she hadn’t felt in days. A warmth. Gentle and soft, like the fleece blanket her dad would wrap around her shoulders on winter nights. Kate allows herself to exhale the breath that had stopped in her lungs, and she realizes she’s smiling. Small. Weak. But she’s smiling.

“That… thank you, Max,” she murmurs. “...I ...that means. …--thank you. I really needed to hear that.”

Max looks up, mirroring her smile. And any anxieties Kate had regarding her intentions dissolve.

* * *

Funerals are… complicated things.

Kate thought that, maybe, not knowing the dead would make the event easier to attend. She’d be there less for the dead and more for the living, offering a hand to hold, arms to hug, ears to listen, and words of comfort. It wouldn’t be that she’d feel nothing. More that she’d feel less, and she’d be emotionally available for those around her. For Max and for Chloe’s family.

But as the proceedings began… her perceptions began to change.

Chloe’s mother began weeping. Her face contorted with a pain Kate knew she couldn’t understand or comfort away. The sort of pain that burrows deep into your chest and winds its roots through your ribs. You could remove the surface temporarily… but those roots. They’d never leave.

And, suddenly, it wasn’t Chloe’s mother weeping. It was Kate’s. And it was Kate’s father standing beside her, holding her tightly to his chest, hopeless and helpless.

It was Kate’s little sisters standing where Max and Warren had been. It was Lynn wiping furiously at her face, trying to hide her tears.

A nameless feeling crept through her as she looked over the small gathering and casket. Just that it was cold and prickling. And Kate looked to her father again, seeing the wrinkles in his brows and the agony behind his eyes. Her sisters, falling apart at the seams. A voice in her head scorns her for being so conceited--for making this about herself. Believing that they’d crumble if that car _had_ hit her… if _she’d_ done something rash.

Suicide is a sin... and she'd disgraced them enough.

But another voice lifts; _how dare you,_ it hisses. _How dare you think them so heartless and cruel. They love you._

Kate bows her head, and she presses a palm over her face. Shame, sadness, guilt, dread all fill her in a rush, and her chest feels so swollen and heavy that she almost begins to sway where she stands. Tears burn her eyes and leak from the corners. Her skin numbs until she can’t feel their heat as they trail down her cheeks. 

When Kate lifts her head, her family is gone. It’s Chloe’s mother. Max and Warren. A few other students linger nearby. She makes eye contact with Dana, who meets her gaze and offers a small, but firm, nod. Kate sniffs and quickly attempts to stifle the sound. She ducks her head again, clutching her hands.

 _A lot of people care,_ she remembers Max saying. Just two days ago. _I want you to know you’re not alone._

Kate nods, rubbing at an eye with her knuckles. She pulls a breath through her lips and lifts her head, blinking the tears from her vision and letting them fall.

_People care._

_You’re not alone._


End file.
